Hogwarts and the First Years
by Caevin
Summary: A story about Sirius, Remus, Snape, etc (with ALOT of original characters). when they were in their first year.


Hogwarts and the First Years

Introduction

            James Potter awoke slowly, gently sliding out of his dreams.  It was morning; the sun was shining through a crack in the curtains of his window casting a stripe of light across his eyes.  The rest of the room was dark, hot, and smelled of old clothes.  It gave the room a musty feeling that no one but James could understand.  Of course, James liked it that way.  It kept everyone out.

            The air in the room now was still, and he could see dust particles floating around lazily in the sky.  He could smell sausage and egg cooking down stairs.  That was what had woken him.  He hated that smell.  And yet, there it was every morning sneaking from the kitchen at the bottom slowly up the two sets of stairs to James's room.  Then he heard a yell from down stairs, "Jamie, you up yet?  The owl bringed you something."  _Brought,_ he corrected subconsciously, _I wonder what it could be?  At this point, I guess I could grace them with my presence._

            At the other end of the country, Sirius Black was wakened in a not-so-pleasant manner.  His older brother had kicked open the door and thrown a huge something at his head.  _Oh, lovely, a shoe_ he mused.  What came out of his mouth, however, was a low sleepy groan.  "Mum wants you to get up.  Says you need to get more exorcise."  His brother enjoyed every minute of this, of course.  Taunting Sirius was his favorite game.  His mother would always say, "At least he doesn't ignore you."  In her, "I know all" voice, but Sirius sometimes wondered if it would be better that way.  

            Speaking of his mother, why on earth would she want him up?  She liked it when he was asleep.  It was more, peaceful, that way.  Not to mention, Sirius wasn't exactly a morning person.  _What on earth could she want now?  _He wondered.  _I haven't done a thing.  And if I have I am sure it wasn't my fault.  _His brother looked at him with a knowing grin.  "Actually, I think you got something in the mail."

Even farther away, in a different country, lived Kerrigan O'Keife.  Though if she knew I had referred to her as that, I don't know what would happen.  She preferred to be called Kerri (let's just say it is necessary she be called that), and woe behold anyone who acts otherwise.  Of course, she had been up for ages.  Waking up at noon was just not something she could do.  She had an internal alarm clock you might say.  That's what you get with growing up with boys.  The morning was the only time she had alone, so she used every moment of it.

Shall we continue?  Oh yes, Kerri O'Keife.  She was capable of being very quiet, knowledgeable, careful, certain…until she got excited.  Then everything went out the door.  Her composure, her will power, and her wisdom (as much wisdom as an eleven-year-old can have at any rate); all of it was gone.  Currently, she was running around her house telling anyone who would listen about the small letter made of yellowing parchment she held in her hand.

Her best friend, partner in crime, and cousin was also awake.  He was cold, sore, and tired; he hadn't gotten any sleep last night.  He was lying on his back looking up at the ceiling of his basement waiting for his mother to come down with his usual cup of tea.  As a rule, he always waited in the basement for her after the full moon.  His parents always wanted to be there in the morning to make him feel better.  

Just then, his mother burst through the door with a loud bang and practically ran down the stairs.  His first thought was _Oh no!  Something's happened!  _But then he realized that she was smiling.  _Well, that's good at least.  _She was crying, too, though; at this point he gave up on logic and just went with a simple "Hello, Mum."  The big hug of joy and the, "Oh, Remus!"  He got in return was not what he had expected, however.  He did notice that his brother had wondered into the room, looking very cross, as he did when Remus got attention.  In his hand he had the letter with green writing that Remus had always dreamed of getting. 

Caraf Rhode was a girl of average height, slender with blonde hair.  She sat in her room leaning back against the pillows of her day bed.  Her room reminded her of springtime.  It was light, airy, and peaceful.  Looking around her, she new she was going to miss it when she left for her new school.  The opened letter lay beside her.  Her sister had gotten the same one four years ago.  Now she was a different person.  That is, she acted different.  She was a witch, so she was better.  That's just the way it went.  Of course, Caraf had never actually seen her do magic.  Sometimes she wondered if the whole thing was true; but now, here she was, she had her own letter, and she would be going off to some faraway place to learn to do magic.  _How odd_ she concluded.   

Just then, as if on queue, her sister, Aria, slid into view.  

"I got my Hogwarts letter today." She announced casually.  Caraf new what she was up to a pretended not to understand. 

"Oh, how interesting."

"Yes." Aria said, but Caraf knew she was annoyed.  How many times had Aria pointed out that normal people don't just turn there broccoli into ice cream, or make the cat bowl fill itself automatically? "Well, I'll just be going then." Now Caraf was annoyed.  She was supposed to be noisier.

"I got one, too." She spoke up.  This earned her a squeal, a hug, and a giggly 15-year-old sitting next to her.  Then came the speech.  

"Just wait until you get to Diagon Alley, oh! You would love the Eeylops Owl Emporium, and then at Hogwarts there is so much to do; with classes and Quidditch…"

In another house, in another town, in another part of the world, another girl was getting a similar speech, from her father.  She had heard about Hogwarts perhaps a hundred times, but, yet, here she was being told about it again.  Except this time, she was actually paying attention; it was the excitement.  Susan, as she was properly called, was listening to her father attentively, but occasionally glanced over at her mother.  

Her mother was a muggle, unlike her father, who was a wizard.  She was pretending to be deeply involved in the book she held in her lap, but really, she was listening to her husband's comments.  On the inside, she was smiling, _my daughter, a witch!_  She was very proud.  Susan's sister, Calorlyne, was watching TV in the other room.  Her father was saying, "There is no such thing as TV at Hogwarts, or radios, or batteries, or anything else.  Everything there is powered by magic."   

            Peter Pettigrew was starring down in front of him.  The letter lay there, unopened.  His parents were starring at him, expectantly.   They were proud parents.  They had their one little boy.  He was going to go to Hogwarts and become a great wizard.  If he ever opened the acceptance letter, that is.  "Well, son, are you going to open it?" His father inquired.  Peter looked up.  He hated being watched like an animal at a zoo.  It was like he was accepting an award.  But that's the way life was, so he shoved aside his thoughts and ripped open the letter.  He read it; he looked at them.  What did they want him to do, read it out loud?

            "I got in." He said.  Cheering erupted from them.  

            "We'll take you to Diagon Alley and get all your things tomorrow!" His mother exclaimed.

            "How about a celebration?" His father proposed. "I'll make a cake!" 

            "Umm, well, dear, why don't I do that, hmm?  You can…" That was the way the Pettigrew household was run.  Fret over the son, get preoccupied, forget about him, and then remember him again.  Now was the preoccupied stage.  He would be forgotten soon, and then he could escape to his room to get excited by himself.  

            Lily Evans had red hair.  She went to school, she had friends, a decent family, and she was very happy.  She had always figured that she would grow up, get married, get a job, have children.  Now that future she had always assumed she had was fading rapidly.  In her hand she held a letter, a very odd letter.  She read it again, just to be sure: 

HOGWARTS SCHOOL

_of_ WITCHCRAFT _and_ WIZARDRY

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore 

_(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,_

_Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. Of Wizards)___

Dear Miss Evans,

      We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. 

Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall 

Minerva McGonagall,

               _Deputy Headmistress_

          Everything she had been taught went against this paper she held in her hand.  Everything she had ever known was screaming out, _This must be a joke!  _And yet, here she was faced with such an outlandish proposition, and she new it had to be real.  She believed it.

Chapter 1

            On the days leading up to September the first, Diagon Alley was a busy place.  People were scurrying around trying to get their things done, as usual, but during the end of the summer months students would be coming with their parents to buy books, supplies, wands, brooms, animals, and anything else they might want (as a "going away" present).  The shopkeepers would have their best deals to attract the biggest crowds.  It was always a joy to see the students so excited for school.

            On this particular day (the weekend before school started) the crowds were the biggest they ever would be.  A lot of the first years that year had unknowingly decided to get their things on the same day.  Inside of Quality Quidditch Supplies, one could see Leopold and Talyn Forgo investigating the newest model.  "Do ya think Da would buy us one o' these?"

            "No, first years canno' have 'em, remember?" Leopold replied to his twin, "Anyway, why'd we only want one?"

            "Tha's not wha' aw meant."

            "It sounded like tha' te me."  Talyn looked at him.  He was always correcting him.  Everything always had to be perfect when Leopold was involved.  His room was neat and orderly; he said it helped him think straighter.  And that was all welcome with Talyn because he didn't have to be neat in order to think straight, it came naturally to him.  "Aw wish we could have 'em, though.  It says they're the bes' yet."

                  "Yeh, the bes'est ever."  Talyn laughed.  Leopold had to struggle not to correct him, which made Talyn laugh even harder.

                  Meanwhile, next door, inside Eeylops Owl Emporium they're were three girls looking around for a pet to deliver their mail and keep them company while they were gone.  Two of them apparently knew each other, while the third was browsing the selection by herself.  Tess Madson and Kalliyan Dore had been neighbors for as long as they could remember.  They had always gone to Diagon Alley when they were younger, dreaming of when they could go to school, and now here they were. "Hey, Kalliyan?"

            "Yes?"

            "What do you think of this one?"

            "Oh, she's beautiful," Kalliyan said. "I don't know if I am going to get an owl."

            "Really, I thought you wanted one?"

            "Yeah, but I was thinking I would get a cat, now.  I have always liked cats."  Tess sighed.  Kalliyan could never make up her mind about anything.  _It's a good thing she brought me along, or she would never get out of here. _

            Across the room, Avalon Myra was listening to their conversation subconsciously.  She was still pondering about how this place could exist, when here she was in the middle of it.  It just wasn't logical for magic to be able to be done.  In her mind, the world was collapsing, but she really did like the new world that was evolving from the ruins.  

            Down the street a ways, was Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions.  There, the students would get the long black robes, winter cloaks, and hats that made up the Hogwarts uniform.  Currently, there was a short, slender man purchasing some bright yellow robes ("Very dashing!" The woman at the counter was saying), a boy being measured on a stool, and the boy's mother waiting in a small room in front were inside.  The boy was quite tall, had curly brown hair, and freckles.  

            "What is your name, dear?"  The woman helping the boy asked.

            "Conan Wyce, ma'am."

            "Are you excited about Hogwarts, then?"

            "Yes, I suppose, a bit."

            "I am sure you'll love it." She answered with a smile, "Here you are, all done." Conan jumped off the stool and ran head on into a small girl with freckles and auburn hair.  

            "Oh, sorry." She mused from the floor, "Are you, ok?"

            "Yes, I'm fine."  He answered.  He looked down at her, "My fault really, wouldn't you say?"

            "Well, if I must, then, yes, that was your fault." She laughed.  Conan laughed back.  

            "I am Conan, by the way." He said as he helped her up.

            "Juniper Bourne," She answered. "Are you going to Hogwarts?"

            "Yes, first year, too." She nodded.  Then came a call from the other room, 

            "Conan, aren't you done yet?" 

            "That's my mum, I'd better be going.  See you around?"  And with that he was gone, feeling better about leaving home now than he had before.

            "Mum, do I have to go down there with you?" A boy pleaded as he entered Gringotts bank, "You know it makes me sick, and all I do is complain, and remember what happened last time?  It got all over your clothes, and we had to go home.  Remember?  People were starring…"

            "That's enough, Hugh." Mrs. Denom looked down at her son.  He looked amused, and he was chuckling to himself.  _He thinks he is so clever, doesn't he? Of course, I would give into him, wouldn't I?_  "Alright, you can stay here.  Do not leave the bank, though.  Wait right here until I get back.  Okay?"

            "Yes, mum."

            "Good, see you in a bit." She left.  He watched where she had gone for a while, before turning around and venturing forth into the world on his own.  He had given up long ago actually doing what his mother asked.  He listened to her, all right, but as for as doing what she thought was best for him went, well, it didn't.  He had always been very independent, and prided himself on doing the right thing.  He had good sense some said; others said good sense would be better put to use by minding.  As he walked about Diagon Alley, he heard a voice calling to him.

            "Hugh, hey! Hugh!" That sounds like Jihan he thought.  He turned.  Sure enough, it was his friend Jihan Lilah.  "Imagine seeing you here." He said, walking up to him.  Jihan had always talked like he was much older than he really was.  He was tall and lanky, with dark skin.  Hugh had been friends with him when they had lived on the same block about four years ago.  After he moved, they had always kept in touch, but never saw much of each other.

            "Hello Jihan.  Haven't seen you in a while."

            "Heh, nope." Jihan smiled. "Where's your mum?"

            "In Gringotts, actually, I am supposed to be in there, she'll probably be back by now."

            "You can always blame me.  She likes me, remember, she called me sweet?"

            "Yep, she always wants to read your letters.  Most of them would probably change her opinion, though, wouldn't they?" Hugh laughed.  Jihan always told some pretty funny stories in his letters, but he was sure his mum wouldn't approve of them. "You know, you don't have a family with you either." He pointed out.

            "Yeah, I snuck of while they were looking at brooms." Again Hugh laughed.  Jihan hated Quidditch.  He called it "rubbish" and "quite dangerous." Just then, a roar came from the crowds.

            "Hugh Denom! Where are you? You're never leaving my sight again." Jihan looked at him with mock horror.

            "She's going to kill you!" He exclaimed.  "You'd better hide before her wrath is upon us both." He finished in a whisper.  Both boys started laughing as they had when they were younger, earning them the odd looks of people passing in the streets.  

            One of these stares belonged to Mr. Marty Talbot.  He was a very distinguished man who worked for the Ministry in the Department of International Magical Cooperation.  He was good at his job, and everyone new it.  His son, Rayne, was walking beside him.  Rayne didn't fit his father in the least.  He was fun, he was energetic, and he was talkative.  Sometimes Marty wondered where he had come from. He sometimes found himself thinking _at least he's good looking._  Which was true, he had inherited his father's good looks, but it wasn't the only good thing about him.  He was quick in body, and in mind.  He had a comeback to everything; in fact, he was quite clever.

            Quentin Clase was chubby and small, but he had a sweet face.  His sister was leading him around like a puppy dog on a leash; worried that if she let go, he would disappear on the streets and never be seen again.  They were on their way to Ollivanders:  Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C.

            "Be-eth, why'd we have to go so fast?" He was saying as she dragged him along.

            "Mum said we had to be back at The Leaky Cauldron before 2:00, and it's already almost past.  Who knows how long it'll take you to get your wand as well?"

            "Well, it's not my fault you have to stop and talk to everybody you know for an hour.  Especially boys.  I don't think mum would approve."

            "Shut up, Quinn!  Don't tell her either."

            "Oh, yeah, right, I'll tell her it took me two hours to pick my wand."

            "Yes, you will."

            "No I wont.  She said I could go look at brooms, and now I wont get to.  It's all your fault, too."

            "If you tell you'll regret it." Quentin looked dejected.  Having an older sister was a pain.

Chapter 2

            Platform 9¾ was a pleasant place to be on September the first.  There were so many smiling faces (Quentin's sister, Elizabeth, as she greeted her friends), and so many excited students (as in Talyn and Leopold).   Occasionally, there would be a tear or two, from a loving parent (Mrs. Pettigrew, waving good-bye to her son as he boarded the train), or a confused child (Remus and Alex Lupin at the thought of being so near each other for a whole year).

            One boy had been staring at the train for about three minutes, while _I am going to Hogwarts_, _I am going to Hogwarts, I am going to Hogwarts _ran a cycle through his head.  Finally, his best friend shook him back to reality.  Their names were Willow O'Malley and Ben Gordon.  They were stepsiblings, to be precise, and they remarkably got along.  They were very alike, and did everything together.  Ben leading the way, and Willow making sure he didn't get into any trouble.  They a lot alike, too.  Both had curly brown hair (Willows longer, of course), tanned bodies, and hazel eyes.  Ben's features were more defined, however, while Willow was shorter and had rounded features.  

            Aldan was trying desperately to heave his trunk onto the train, and wasn't having much luck.  He wouldn't give up though.  He would keep trying, because that's what he did; he worked hard and got a lot out of it.  Sometimes it was a nuisance, however, the trunk was simply to heavy to get up the stairs.  "Excuse me, do you need some help?" Aldan looked up.  A boy that looked his age was waiting for an answer.

            "Uh, sure, thanks."

            "No problem." The boy helped him, and the trunk was quickly inside the train. "Hey, you don't happen to know anyone around here, do you?" The boy asked as Aldan glanced a round for a spare compartment.

            "No, not really." Aldan said, searching this new boy he had met, "Except my cousin.  He is in his sixth year, though." _Might as well strike up conversation_ he thought _he seems nice enough._

"Really? Me neither, you want to share my compartment?" The boy had asked.  Aldan smiled.  

            "Sure.  My name is Aldan McBride."

            "Oh, yeah, nice to meet you.  I'm Gregg Hart.  Guess I forgot that part." Aldan laughed as they pulled the trunk down to where Gregg's stuff was.

            Kamella Barrington rubbed the lipstick off her cheek that had been planted there by her mother.  _That would be great, wouldn't it?  Go off to school, and have a great smudge on my face._  "Oh, Kamella, I hope you have fun.  Remember to owl me right away about what house your in, and how your first day went, and all the other people in your year, and…"

            "Okay, Mum, I got it, owl you about everything."

            "Yes, everything."

            "And do remember that its no crime to be in Slytherin, being in Hufflepuff doesn't mean you're dumb, Ravenclaw isn't full of lurkers from the library, and…"

            "Gryffindor isn't perfect, so if you are there then don't get a big head." Kamella finished for her father.  He was always trying to point out the good and the bad of the houses, but for short reference he had a condensed list of traits.  He had been a Ravenclaw himself.  In his year, the house cup had gone to Gryffindor instead of his house, so he wasn't too font of them.  He had considered it an indecency.  Now her mother had been a Hufflepuff.  She had this thing with remembering. "Remember to feed the dog, remember to do your chores, remember to watch your language" (that was her favorite), the list was endless. 

            "Most of all, remember that we love you no matter what house you are in." Kamella snapped back into the world of the living.  

            "Oh, yeah, sure, Mum." She left to get onto the train after a quick hug.

            "'Sure, Mum.'  She is leaving, and I get a 'Sure, Mum'?" Kamella's mother looked at her husband exasperatedly. 

            "Just let her go."  He sighed.

            Raven was running late.  All the compartments were full it seemed, and all of them were full of older people.  Older people like her brother's friends, older people who were most definitely not her brother's friends.  It was scary.  Her brother was very well known, and everyone at the school had either liked him a lot, or well, hated him.  Right now, Raven did not want to be confronted with that.  She wanted people her age, who wouldn't want to talk about such a disturbing subject.

            She got to the last compartment, and opened it slowly.  A boy and a girl were inside.  They were young.  They looked nice.  "Excuse me, but would you mind if I shared with you?" Ben and Willow looked at each other and came to a mutual agreement without speaking. 

            "If you talk to us." Willow said.

            "Yeah, we wont have you sulking in a corner by yourself just because you don't have any friends already." Raven, surprisingly, appreciated the bluntness.  She was shy if you let her be.  It didn't seem like that would happen here.

            "Sure, I'll talk.  My name is Raven Anders." She kicked her trunk through the door and sat down.

            "I am Willow O'Malley, and this is Ben Gordon."

            "Oh, really?  I would have thought you where related…"

            Natalie and Marian Ferrah ran through Platform 9¾, their father and mother trailing behind.  They arrived at the train breathless at 10:58am.  The whistle blew.  As the girls said good-bye to their mother, their father hurriedly stashed the trunks inside.  He came out and gave the girls a quick kiss and said with a smile, "I'm sorry we're late, I don't like the rush either.  And next year, I assure you, we will be the first ones here."

            "Sure, Dad, that will never happen."  Natalie said sarcastically. The whistle sounded again.  They shut the door, and leaned out the window.

            "I'd like to take you up on that." Marian sighed.  "Bye Mum."

            "Yeah, bye." Natalie agreed.  The train started to gain speed.  Mr. and Mrs. Ferrah waved, along with all the other parents and younger siblings, as the train slowly disappeared from view. 

Chapter 3

            Natalie and Marian dragged their trunks along the isle, looking for a place to sit.  After two tries, they came to a compartment containing three other girls.  

            "Hello." Marian ventured.

            "Would you mind?  We got here late, and everywhere is full."  Natalie finished.  She was always the more outgoing one.  

            "I don't mind." One girl said.  "I am Madisyn Autun.  This is, Julian Longbottom?" Julian nodded.  She turned to the other girl, sitting across from her, "And, I am so sorry (she sounded it too) but I have forgotten your name."

            "Chandler Edwards." She smiled.  Chandler had short blonde hair pulled up into a tiny ponytail.  "Who are you two? Twins I assume?"

            "Oh, no." Natalie objected, sitting down. "We just pretend to look a like to confuse people."  Marian sighed.  Her sister was always being sarcastic, and it was a bit annoying, really.  Madisyn, Chandler, and Julian seemed not to mind, however, as they were laughing.

            "Of course we are.  I am Marian, and this is Natalie; though, it might take you a while to figure out whose who."

            "I bet." Madisyn answered. "I am no good with names." The girls begin talking quietly about nothing in particular, occasionally getting giggly and laughing, and eventually were practically yelling.  They begin to attract the attention of the boys across the isle.  

            Robin Wilkes knocked on the door.  The laughter immediately stopped.  _Typical_, he thought. 

            "Yes?" Came a voice from inside.  He opened the door, glancing back at the newly acquired friends that had persuaded him into doing this.  They nodded encouragingly.  _Again, typical, they're fine as long as they're not doing the talking._  Robin had always been bold, so here he was about to fall to his doom, for the nth time in his life, and all because of the peer pressure of people he had just met.  

            "Excuse me?" He tried, looking at the girls (_four, only four? How could they make so much racket with only four of them?_).  "I am Robin Wilkes, and me and my friends here (he gestured across the way), were wondering if you could perhaps lower your tone." He looked at them sincerely.  They all started laughing even louder than before.  At this, Evan Rosier, one of his friends, got up and walked over to them.

            "That is quite rude you know, laughing at him.  He asked for a simple favor.  He asked nicely, too.  You're quite lucky, you know, that I hadn't asked.  I would have said something more along the lines of, 'Oy, shut up!' imagine what would have happened then."  As far as Robin was concerned, Evan was going to get in a lot of trouble someday.  He was very pushy and self-oriented.  He had taken a liking to Robin, though, so he was all right to be with.

            "What would I have done then?" One of the girls asked. "I would have replied somewhere along the lines of, 'Shut up yourself you great bastard, or I'll…"

            "Don't call me a bastard, you…" Robin grabbed Evan and pulled him back into their compartment.  Closing the door as he went.  

            "Let me at her!" He was calling, "I'll teach her.  I am no bastard."

            "Could've fooled me, by the way you were acting." Severus Snape commented.  He was a greasy haired kid who didn't have much good to say about anything.  He fit in with the group though, amazingly, so they put up with it.  He was quite smart as well.  Robin surveyed the group again.  Looking around, he found that he definitely liked Evan's sense for fun and adventure.  William Avery was a quiet boy with dark brown hair.  He seemed to be very sure of himself when he did say something, however.  Knew what he was doing it seemed.  Then there was Severus.  Robin figured it would take a while to get to know him.  Lastly, was Sebastian Lestrange.  He was tall and muscular.  Looked old for his age.  From what Robin could tell, he wasn't too smart, but he was nice enough.  They were okay, he concluded.

            Both the boys and the girls talked for a while, about what type of family they had, what houses they would be in (it came as no surprise that these two were linked), and what the current Quidditch standings were (this conversation lasted longer for the boys).  Eventually, the train was almost due to arrive at Hogwarts, and they changed into their robes nervously.  As the train slowed to a stop, they had stopped talking and started worrying about what was next to come:  the sorting into the four houses.


End file.
